Dear Reader
by shadowcat012
Summary: She hadn't truly understood all the disaster mutants were capable of until she met Charles Xavier and Eric Lensherr. But then, she hadn't known all that she was capable of either. OC Centric - First Class Movie based.
1. Chapter 1

**Fandom**: X-Men First Class  
**A/N**: I'm uploading this now over working on everything else I have because 1) I've had the first five chapters written and ready on my laptop since last summer 2) there are only eight chapters for this story and 3) I really want to get this out for someone to read.  
**Disclaimer**: X-Men does not nor will it ever belong to me. This is an idea sprouted from a seed planted at the end of the movie (how come all the girls left the group? What's up with that?)  
**A/N2**: I've decided to include another scene to this chapter that shows more of my OC's background and character. The same will be done for the second chapter which is why I'm going to take it down and upload it again at another time. I apologize for my flimsiness and hope that while the beginning of this story is taking a bit of a back step, you'll still give it a chance. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Dear Reader

Chapter One

* * *

_When I was young, I used to dream of a life of freedom. Of going to school, having a job I loved, a place of my own, and just being happy. As I got older, that dream quickly became lost amongst the toils of work, the conformity of society, and the lie I lived each day._

* * *

It was early fall in 1962 and the heat in California was hitting one of its many highs. Youngsters in the San Francisco area flocked to air conditioned Soda Shoppes and Burger Shacks in the hopes of a soda pop or milk shake that could hit just the right satisfying spot after a long day in school. Hours would be spent sitting in clusters around tables talking and laughing about anything and yet nothing at the same time.

Filling two tall glasses to the top with blended chocolate ice cream, Rosie was not one of those youngsters. With sticky fingers, the young woman reached into a silver refrigerator and retrieved a slim can of whipped cream.

"Order up, Casey!" One of the cooks yelled from the kitchen behind her.

"I heard you the first five times, Joe!" One of the waitresses retorted from across the shop. Rosie's lips quirked. This place had a few similarities to home.

After spraying on the whipped cream, Rosie dipped her fingers into the bucket of cherries, plucked two fruit from the stems, and plopped them attractively atop each thick spiral of cream. Picking up both glasses, the young woman focused on getting back to her table, pausing only when her boss' voice carried over the clamor of a full house and a belting jukebox.

"Your sister is calling _again_." He informed with an edge that conveyed she was soon going to get into trouble for personal calls…again.

"Bit busy, Boss," Rosie answered instead, ignoring the exasperated sigh and roll of the eyes her reply enticed. Finally placing the shakes at her table, Rosie pulled two straws and silver spoons from her apron, placed them alongside the glasses, and then rested her hands on her hips with a smile. "There you go, gentlemen. Two handmade shakes from yours truly. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

One of the men, a figure seemingly carved from rugged stone, chuckled unexpectedly and addressed his companion in a low rumble; "This has to be a joke, Charles."

His companion smiled in amusement. "Manners, Erik." He then turned on her the biggest blue eyes Rosie had ever seen and broadened his smile in a friendly manner. "We would like to have a moment of your time, Rosie, if that's all right."

Glancing between the two, Rosie's smile soon dwindled in her uncertainty. "I'm only here to serve, gentlemen, nothing more."

The larger of the two, Erik, sat straighter in his seat. "Then we will cut to the chase." With a flick of his fingers, the silverware in Rosie's apron tugged forward and flew to his hand.

What frightened the woman, however, was the painful tug on the skin of her bellybutton that caused her to stumble forward nearly falling into the man's lap. Punching his shoulder reflexively, Rosie frantically stepped back and stared at him in wonder. Charles, who had stopped just before drinking his shake, eyed the two curiously.

Placing a hand on her abdomen, Rosie quickly checked the rest of the shop, making sure no one else had seen her stumble.

"You can control metal." She breathed shakily.

As his big blue eyes roamed over her body, Charles questioned conversationally, "Do you have any piercings, Rosie?"

"Just the one," The woman muttered grudgingly, her dark eyes roving Erik's figure. Charles at least had the decency to look somewhat apologetic while Erik shrugged and took a sip from his shake.

"So may we have a moment of your time?"

* * *

She stood outside the Shoppe, watching the cars as they lazily passed by. Sometimes she caught glimpses of drivers through the windows. With every wide yawn she'd glimpse, every lazy scratch of the chin, or movement towards the car stereo she would wonder. _'Are you like me?'_

When an impatient hand would slam against a steering wheel, blaring the horn and disrupting her near hypnotic state, she would vaguely dismiss, _'You're one of them.'_

Her feet ached in such pain, needing to be relieved of weight after the long shift she worked. But she knew, if she rested for only a moment, she would not be getting up again that night.

"You all right, Rosie?" She recognized the voice of one of the cooks and inclined her neck to nod in his direction.

"Just waiting for my ride." She could hear the monotone of her voice and the hesitation on the cook's part after she spoke.

He was a large man, older by a couple of years and already married with three children. The low heels of his worn brown shoes scuffed against the sidewalk pavement as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders (which, in his household, he most likely did).

"Good night, Rosie." He bid as he plopped his floppy brown cap atop his head, beginning his nightly walk home.

He was a good man. Rosie shoved the guilt of giving him a cold shoulder back to the recesses of her mind. She had bigger things to worry about.

'_How would you like to work with others like yourself?'_

Like the insane proposition she'd been given during her shift earlier in the day by two men with such powers that both excited and terrified her.

The flash of headlights caught her attention as her brother's muddy pick-up turned the corner. But from the shadow in the cab cast by the headlights of the vehicle behind it, she could already tell the driver was not her brother.

Or this.

The truck slowed to a stop by the curb. The sound of shifting gears creaked over the running motor. Steeling herself, Rosie stepped off the sidewalk and opened the passenger door. A woman's face, pinched in barely contained anger, greeted her from behind the steering wheel. She figured after the four calls her sister had made to the Shoppe that day, she would be the one driving out to pick her up. Her siblings had all taken their turns, finding her place of work, surprising her at the end of her shift, trying to convince her to come back home. She guessed it was now time for the eldest of the six to give it a try.

Without a word, Rosie climbed inside. The frame of the pick-up groaned in protest of her added weight. The door slammed noisily shut and the woman began shifting gears again as Rosie reached for her seat belt.

Not a word was spoken between them for the first few blocks. Every bump, every creak, every shift in gears, pronounced the tension in the cab.

Sneaking glances at the driver, Rosie accounted each physical feature the woman had that differed from her own.

Long hair the color of honey combed back into a knot at the back of her head. Brown freckles caked across high cheek bones from long hours spent in the sun. A tightness in the corners of hazel brown eyes as they dutifully focused on the street. Veins visible along firm hands as long fingers curled around the stick shift like talons.

A large work coat covered the woman's small frame and strong shoulders, the stiff collar coming up just below a strong jaw. Pink lips cracked from slight dehydration-too much time focused on the children to sufficiently hydrate. A slim nose that had a narrow end.

So much of their father was in this woman, Celeste, her eldest sister.

If there was one sibling that she didn't want the company of that evening, it was Celeste.

"Who told you where I was?" Rosie broached, her gaze cast out the passenger window; her voice low and braced for the inevitable. Each time a sibling had found her, she'd gone through the trouble of switching jobs. It was beginning to grow tiresome.

"You think I can't find out where you're staying and working? Just because you think you're smart doesn't make everyone else stupid."

"Why are you here?" Rosie bit through the venom in her sister's voice.

"I'm taking you home."

Her blood ran cold and her hand clutched at the passenger door. "Mom and Dad haven't changed their minds."

"No. I'm taking you home and you're dropping this whole matter of living on your own. You've caused enough suffering as far as I'm concerned."

"If there's suffering, it's only because our family does not know how to break free from tradition. Our family doesn't know what it means to be free."

"They understand perfectly well what it means. It is you who does not know what it means to be caged."

"I have no intention of finding out." Rosie finished coldly.

Celeste stopped at a street light and stared long and hard at her younger sister.

She'd lost weight, she could tell. Living on minimum wage alone and in the city meant she must not be eating as much as she used to. Dark crescents under her eyes meant she wasn't getting much rest from stress, a poor place of living, or both. Her beautiful dark hair, which their mother used to comb and braid with pride, was oily from several nights without a wash and slicked back into a tight ponytail. Even in the dim lighting from the red light she could see the split ends draped over her shoulder. She didn't understand.

"All Mama ever wanted from you was assurance you would be there when she needed you."

Rosie scraped her fingers back along her scalp and groaned in exasperation.

"What she wants is for me to stay by her side forever! No job, no friends, no _boyfriends_ or a future of any kind that doesn't involve waiting on her hand and foot. Celeste we all _know_ what she wants. We all _know_ the culture she was raised with." Exhaustion caught up with her as she slumped back into her seat, her eyes, glistening with tears of frustration, were wide in desperate need for Celeste to understand. "The youngest daughter lives for nothing more than to take care of her parents to their dying day. And as the youngest daughter, I refuse to accept that."

"But you had everything you needed, a roof over your head, food on your plate, a descent place to sleep, and you yourself said there was never a boy who caught your interest long enough for anything to happen."

Rosie shook her head, her hands grasped at air as if grasping for something to whack her sister upside the head with.

"I was empty inside. Living a life someone else wanted me to live. I wasn't happy!"

"Are you happy _now_?" Celeste's eyes became cold as she shrewdly assessed her sister's response. She'd reached the end of her rope in patience and trying to understand. And already she could see Rosie retreating into herself at the question. "_Dios __mío_, _Rosalinda,_ what is it going to take for you to just accept this?"

A horn blared behind them. The light had been green for awhile.

Muttering under her breath, Celeste began to work the stick shift, her arms jerking back and forth in her aggravation.

"Don't come for me again." Rosie uttered before quickly opening her door and jumping out of the truck.

Celeste called out to her, her voice stricken, then angry. But Rosie didn't want to talk anymore.

She ran.

Down an alleyway, back up a block, through another alleyway, then down a different street. Then she did what she'd been focusing all year on not doing.

She disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Thank you everyone who has added this to their favorites and alerts lists. I'm a bit skeptical about this chapter and would appreciate any kind of feedback anyone has to offer. I hope you'll enjoy!  
_2nd Note:_ To those who haven't read the extra scene I added to the first chapter, I would suggest doing so before reading this chapter. I apologize for the day-late warning.

* * *

Dear Reader

Chapter Two

* * *

_At nineteen, I believed I knew everything there was to know about the world and its occupants. Humans clung onto what they knew and could define. Those on the outside clung to each other. I needed to find those others on the outside._

* * *

She arrived at the airport an hour earlier than requested. A small travel bag was at her back carrying within what little she had with her. Her right hand pulled on the sleeve of the grey sweater she wore, her left hand pat down the black vest zipped over it, then smoothed over her black skirt that ended in a slight ruffle at her knees. These were her best clothes; the clothes she had left her family in.

Consciously clearing her throat, Rosie maneuvered through the crowd, discreetly keeping an eye out for a familiar face.

As promised the day before, the men, Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier had taken care of the lease on her apartment. Her, then, only bar that kept her from agreeing to join them straight away. She'd been so overcome with gratitude and relief when her landlord informed her of the payment on her way in the night before that she had treat herself to a long hot bath. Then, her boss phoned her that morning saying she didn't have to come in. They then made arrangements for her last paycheck to be mailed to her parents' address outside the city.

This freed her morning so she had taken her time getting ready. After brushing her teeth and rinsing her face, Rosie sat on the edge of her cot to comb through her long hair. Her fingers expertly twisted and weaved the strands into one braid that trailed down her back between her shoulder blades. She'd then set out her best outfit and packed up her personal effects; few clothing, undergarments, and a notepad filled with all the letters she wrote but would never send.

She pulled a silver chain from a cubby hole hidden behind her cot and draped it delicately across the outside of her left hand. Each link sparkled, untarnished, contrasting beautifully with the dark olive tone of her skin. Her father had bartered half of his paycheck in exchange for this chain on her sixteenth birthday. There hadn't been a special enough occasion to wear it as of yet. Remembering yesterday's incident in the Soda Shoppe, Rosie decided today was not that day either. She wrapped it up in some tissue from the restroom and buried it to the very bottom of her travel pack.

Then, she most carefully unclipped the piercing from her navel and tossed it atop the possessions in her bag. That item had been an impulse purchase when her older brother, Adan, a rising mechanic just outside the city, had taken her out with his friends in celebration of her decision to run away. Of all her family, he was the one who joined her in the modern times and believed she had just as much a right to freedom as anyone else. This tender thought forced her to reach back into her bag and stuff the trinket all the way to the bottom alongside the chain.

After slowly dressing, Rosie said a quiet goodbye to the room and departed. She wished she had someone to see her off, someone to say goodbye to without the fear of judgment.

But as she sat by the large water fountain sculpted from the same mold used for pottery, she told herself it was better this way. Looking forward instead of dwelling on what's being left behind, that's what she needed to do.

She watched the clusters of travelers that surrounded and filled the airport. Every now and again she would see a flash of her eldest sister, Celeste in the woman walking swiftly through the atrium, two children trailing obediently behind her. She'd hear her younger brother, Daniel, and their father in the argument between two gentlemen over the title of better boxer, Tiger or Fullmer. She'd see her mother in the woman sitting across from her, patiently waiting for her husband to return with the flight details yet impatient with her children who have discovered the fun of splashing the water in the fountain pool.

"Rosie, I'm so sorry we're late. Have you been here long?" Before she could stand, Charles Xavier was upon her, hair a bit windblown and suit slightly disarrayed. Worry was so very evident in his blue eyes and he seemed to be breathing heavily from exertion. Immediately she replied in attempt to soothe him.

"Not at all. Is it time already?"

Erik appeared beside Charles. Without preamble, he handed her an airliner ticket-her first ever.

"It's been time. Where have you been?" His breath was light and short, as if he too had taken much effort to arrive at the time he did.

Knowing better than to respond Rosie accepted the ticket and motioned for the men to take the lead. Charles nodded.

"Right, I'll see what I can do."

She noticed how his hand instinctively went to his side as he began to head for the security. He then clenched and dropped it; an attempt to walk as casually as possible.

Rosie noticed another individual standing just behind Erik. A funny looking boy, tall and lanky with blazing red hair, gazed up at the ceiling, his jaw hanging open as he took in the expansive architecture.

As if only just remembering him, Erik stepped back to allow a full view.

"Rosie, this is Sean Cassidy. He's one of us."

Sean snapped his head back to the people around him when he heard his name.

"Sean, this is Rosie."

Sean was quick to give Rosie a onceover before reaching a hand out for her to shake.

"Hi," Sean spoke easily, though it was obvious his attention was still elsewhere.

This was the first person she'd met that was like her _and_ around the same age. She wanted to hug him.

"Hi," She returned with a polite smile. She grasped his hand and gave a firm shake. His eyes locked onto hers and she knew she'd gained more of his attention.

"Well," Erik cleared his throat. "We don't want to keep Charles waiting."

Rosie and Sean released their grips. Rosie looked up at the older man and held onto his gaze for a moment. It was like gazing at a steel wall. But there had been something in his tone. He seemed to be mocking someone; she couldn't tell if it was her.

* * *

They arrived at a facility where a small group of other young adults were already waiting. Looking at the exterior of the federal building sprouted doubts about joining Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr. After being escorted through the impressive lobby, the winding hallways, and past the neatly groomed courtyard, the doubts began to nag annoyingly at her. It wasn't until she entered the "lounge" as they called it, and laid eyes on the other "mutants" (as Agent Moira MacTaggert referred to them as) that she firmly resolved she had made a mistake.

"If everyone would please just wait for us here, Erik, Moira, and I have a meeting with the director." Charles had then smiled in excuse before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Rosie hardly had any time to acclimatize herself with the room or its occupants as a beautiful girl with bouncing blond hair, blue doe eyes, and a radiant smile stepped in front of her and Sean. She introduced herself as Raven, Charles' friend and fellow mutant.

She then turned to a small kitchenette, separated from the rest of the lounge by a high counter, and addressed the young man in the process of pulling what looked like several bottles of cola from the refrigerator. He looked up at them through wide rimmed glasses that covered half of his young, slim face yet accentuated rather nicely his soft, bashful smile when Raven supplied his name and a bit of information. He was Hank, leading scientist on this federal site with super powers of super intelligence.

Then Raven directed their attention to a tall African American standing at the center of a sitting arrangement by one of the wall-length glass windows. He was thin, like Sean, but had a bit of muscle along his long dark arms and a short crop of hair atop his head. He gave a short wave as Raven introduced him as Darwin, a cab driver from the Big Apple, New York City.

Sitting in one of the white couches across from where Darwin stood was another boy, skin as white as Raven's, with cropped blond hair that remained a bit long at his forehead, and clad in a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and boots. He was Alex Summers, and Raven frowned as she mentioned she really couldn't say much about him.

"It's a hint for you to open up." Raven clarified for the boy.

Alex subconsciously scratched at the back of his neck and leaned forward in the couch. "Take a hint for not discussing it."

Rolling her eyes, Raven lightly tugged on Rosie's arm, leading both her and Sean deeper into the room where the last mutant was seated.

"And this is Angel. She's from California, like you two, I hear."

The girl, Angel, twisted around in her seat to get a proper look at the newcomers. Her skin was a touch of olive like Rosie's, though it was much softer. She had the skin of a gentle city girl, unblemished by the toils of a full day's worth in the sun. However, her dark eyes gave away much of the spirit within. This girl could love just as fiercely as she could hate. And Rosie could sense much of the hate with just one glance. When the girl smiled in greeting, there was a slight twitch that signaled she wasn't quite used to doing so genuinely. As Angel sized her up, Rosie couldn't help but feel she herself represented everything that the other girl was not and vice versa.

Could Angel feel it too? How they were two opposite ends of a magnet that would not come together no matter how much force was thrust upon them?

"And she's here before us?" Sean spoke, the light wit in his voice bringing Rosie back to the moment. "What'd they do, teleport you here?"

Angel tilted her head slightly; there was humor in her voice but definitely not in her eyes. "I caught an early flight with them on Monday. They must have forgotten you and only gone back yesterday."

"They probably realized they couldn't do what needed to be done without us." Rosie huffed before spreading her lips in a smile to convey humor as well. She'd just spent the better part of a day getting to know Sean Cassidy, the boy that had yet to step away from her side. She'd defend him even when no one else would think he needed defending.

Angel's eyes zeroed in on her once more; this time doing more than just assessing Rosie's physical appearance.

"Colas are ready if anyone is interested." Hank called from the kitchenette. And just like that the tension was broken. Everyone headed back towards the counter to grab a cold bottle, Darwin striking up conversation with Sean and Raven looping her arm through Rosie's as they did.

This was supposed to be an exhilarating moment, meeting others like herself, drinking cola, talking about abilities as if talking about favorite past time sports. Yet Rosie couldn't help but feel as if she still didn't belong.

Raven continued to be friendly and the energetic initiator of conversations. Hank remained silent for the most part, casting shy smiles Raven's way every now and again. But when he spoke, he was eloquent with only a slight stammer and so charming without even trying. Darwin was expressive, gracious, and just as eager as Raven to keep up the conversation, though he was more laid back about it. Sean was just as conservative as he was on the plane, his spark of life and laughter igniting whenever the opportunity for teasing one of the girls presented itself.

Raven had not been exaggerating when it came to Alex being mute on anything about his life. He gave short responses and seemed to take a liking to picking on Hank. Okay, the jury was still out on Alex.

Rosie sat stiffly on the couch with Raven and Hank, Raven sitting like a bright flare in the middle, listening to the different tales each person had to give.

These were her kind of people. And if being in their presence at long last didn't make her happy...

_'Are you happy _now_?'_

She swallowed and shook her sister's voice from her head. Maybe she needed something stronger than a cola.


End file.
